


Fit For A King

by A_M_Kelley



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cock & Ball Torture, Come Eating, Dominant Bottom, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Facials, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, King Robb, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prisoner of War, Revenge, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Threats of Violence, Way more mercy than Ramsay deserves tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 05:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10780395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_M_Kelley/pseuds/A_M_Kelley
Summary: Robb has taken back control of the North and has Ramsay as his prisoner. It only seems fitting he exact his revenge and teach Roose's bastard a lesson in humility.





	Fit For A King

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a twist. Non-con is directed towards Ramsay cus why the hell not?

To say Robb was pleased with himself would be an understatement.

He had managed to take over Dreadfort and occupy Winterfell once again, but not after taking both Roose Bolton and his bastard prisoner. Robb had yet to decide what was to become of the traitor, Roose, but he had _plans_ for Ramsay. It had taken the span of three weeks before Robb’s men finally broke Ramsay down and had him begging for mercy. Honestly, Robb expected a better fight from the bastard.

Ramsay seemed like the type of man to die with honor before resorting to sniveling for mercy. Then again, Ramsay was flesh and bone after all just like anyone else. Still, his spirit broke a lot quicker than Robb had anticipated. He still ran his mouth, mostly as a defense mechanism, but he was in no position to be making demands. All that mattered was that he had Ramsay now and he was going to make sure the bastard knew who the _true_ King in the North really is.

Ramsay is a spoiled brat in need of a lesson in humility and Robb had just the thing to remind him of his new place in the world. That’s why Robb currently had Ramsay naked and bound to the bedposts. It was perhaps the most comfortable Ramsay has been for the past few weeks, but it didn’t come without a price. Ramsay, of all people, knew that. It _was_ his specialty after all. To give someone a smidgen of hope before making it turn sour in the blink of an eye.

Robb didn’t mutilate people, but he wasn’t above exacting his revenge.

Building the tension up in the room wasn’t hard to do as Ramsay growled and pulled at the thick ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles. He was splayed out in the ironic symbol of his own banner. The sight left a warm, satisfied sensation in the pit of Robb’s stomach. Ramsay was fearing the worst, growing more restless as Robb started to bare himself one article of clothing at a time. The bastard couldn’t get a good vantage point on Robb on account of him being tightly bound to the bed, but he could still hear the soft rustling of leathers and cloth hitting the cold stone ground.

Ramsay didn’t stop squirming until Robb came over at sat down next to him on the bed. Ramsay gave him a once over with his cold gaze, looking disgusted as possible at the sight of Robb’s, admittedly, impressive form. People who usually claimed themselves as _King_ were soft and flabby, having far surpassed their prime, but Robb was solid and rugged. The visage of a _true_ King.

“Now that I'm King in the North, it would appear that I need a throne,” Robb stated. “A King is nothing without a throne, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You’re a Stark. You already are _nothing_ ,” Ramsay spat, his bright wild eyes gleaming with hatred up at Robb.

“And you’re the bastard of Roose Bolton who is, last I checked, _my_ prisoner,” Robb antagonized, unimpressed by Ramsay’s outburst. “Which makes you lower than _nothing_.”

Robb reached out and ran his fingertips over the expanse of Ramsay’s chest, admiring the muscle and smooth pale skin that flinched and quivered under his touch.

“But you don’t have to be nothing,” Robb informed, laying his hand flat against Ramsay’s stomach. “As I've said, I'm in the market for a throne fit for a king. Craftsmanship is important, and I must say I'm quite impressed with what I see so far.”

“Come to sit on my cock then?” Ramsay boasted, his tone vulgar. “This _throne_ might be a bit big for you, darling.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not your pathetic little cock I want to sit on,” Robb mocked. He gripped Ramsay’s face just under his chin and squeezed it roughly enough to bruise. “I figure I can kill two birds with one stone. A way to get my throne _and_ shut you up.”

“Like hell!” Ramsay seethed when Robb’s grip tightened.

Ramsay winced and jerked his head, trying to get away from Robb’s clutches with a sour pout on his face. Robb was displeased with this and decided to prove he still hand the upper hand on the situation. He used his free hand and grabbed Ramsay by his balls, squeezing them until it felt like they would burst. Ramsay hissed and thrashed despite his better instincts to remain strong and unbreakable. Robb twisted his hand slightly, drawing out a long whimper that tapered off into a growl. Ramsay could feel tears prick at the corners of his bright eyes.

“Now you listen to me, _bastard_ ,” Robb warned, dropping his voice into a low growl of contempt. His hand did not falter and his gaze remained solely on Ramsay. “I'm going to sit on your face and when I do you’re going to do your utmost to please me with your mouth, because I am the _King_ and you are the _throne_. If you cherish your pathetic little existence you will obey me and accept my more than generous offer.”

“I'm no one’s whore,” Ramsay bit out through clenched teeth. All the blood was rushing south of his body, and not in a good way.

“You are what I say you are,” Robb disclosed, squeezing Ramsay’s balls until his knuckles turned white. Ramsay grunted, baring his teeth, bringing a smirk out on Robb’s face. “Or perhaps I should do to you what you did to Theon. Though, you wouldn’t be losing much, huh?”

Much to Ramsay’s embarrassment, Robb barked out a laugh when he saw the flush spread across the bastard’s pinched expression. Despite the burning pain in Ramsay’s nuts, having Robb’s knuckles brushing over his cock, he found his body shaming itself. Robb took notice and let go of Ramsay’s balls, eliciting as gasp of relief from the man below.

“ _But_ , if you’re willing to prove yourself worthy as my throne, _I_ may be inclined to extend my generosity in a number of ways,” Robb said with a deceivingly soft tone as he wrapped his hand around Ramsay’s half hard erection. “Who knows? You might even grow to enjoy serving me. You’re definitely enjoying _this_.”

Robb continued to stroke Ramsay’s growing cock in a loose grip, drawing out displaced gasps from the bastard that tried, in vain, to control his more basic human reactions. Ramsay stiffened in Robb’s hand in no time and when he did the King in the North gripped it tightly by the base, causing Ramsay to grunt out in displeasure. His arms and legs ached as they pointlessly yanked on the ropes.

“Depends on how well you follow orders,” Robb reminded, smirking down at Ramsay when the bastard’s eyes begged for mercy. “Will you be a good little bastard and obey your King? Or will you disappoint me?”

“I will obey,” Ramsay conceded, his pitiful plea grating in his own ears.

“You will obey _who_?” Robb inquired, tightening his grip on Ramsay’s cock.

“You, your Grace,” Ramsay clarified, wincing as the words left his lips. “ _My king_...”

“Are you always so agreeable?” Robb scoffed, releasing Ramsay’s throbbing erection. “Who knew Boltons were such pushovers.”

Ramsay bit his tongue and watched as Robb climbed up onto the bed and swung a leg over Ramsay’s body to straddle his chest. His back was turned to Ramsay, his ass resting right before the bastard’s face, and his thighs were braced on either side of his torso. Robb scooted himself backwards and spread open his cheeks with his hands, going so far as to sit up on his knees to press Ramsay’s face between them snugly. Ramsay’s body flinched and he attempted to turn his face away, but it was no use.

“Well go on, then, _throne_ ,” Robb taunted, nestling himself on Ramsay’s face until he felt his nose brushing against his cheeks. “Show your _King_ how obedient you can be and lick me.”

He hated himself, but he wasn’t given much of a choice. Ramsay swallowed his pride and did as his King commanded, sticking his tongue out to hesitantly swipe the flat of it over Robb’s puckered hole. Robb let out a pleased little hum of approval, closing his eyes as he pushed his hips into the contact. Ramsay did it again and again and again until he slowly worked himself into a rhythm Robb was satisfied with.

His swipes were tentative at first, not particularly enjoying the idea of licking another man’s ass who clearly asserted dominance over him, but despite all the hate and contempt Ramsay had for the Starks he found himself longing to hear more of Robb’s moaning and gasping. He was making all those noises because of him, after all. So he lapped and sucked at Robb’s entrance as best he could, getting light-headed in the process from lack of oxygen.

Robb was so into it that he started humping himself back against Ramsay’s mouth, nearly smothering the man with his ass in order to get what he wanted. Only when Ramsay’s body started to twitch and heave did Robb let up and allow the bastard to breathe for a few moments before planting himself back on that damp, hot mouth. He didn’t want Ramsay dead just yet. Not if he proved to be useful.

“Don’t just kiss it. _Really_ put your neck into it,” Robb urged, rotating his hips in small circles.

Ramsay extended his tongue, making it rigid, and probed the ring of muscle in an attempt to penetrate it. Robb hummed, pushing down to help drive Ramsay’s tongue in deeper. Ramsay was being suffocated by Robb’s enthusiasm, nearly passing out if not for the adrenaline that pumped through him. He pulled off momentarily, panting wetly against Robb’s damp hole as he tried to catch his breath.

“At this rate, your tongue might go deeper than your cock,” Robb mocked, smoothing a hand down Ramsay’s abdomen.

Ramsay had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, but it was quickly replaced with Robb’s tight little hole. The hand that traveled down Ramsay’s body enclosed around both his cock and balls, gripping them in an embrace Ramsay knew he’d have to learn to get used to. He groaned against Robb’s entrance, doing his best to slobber and suck all over it, as the King in the North grasped him.

It hurt having his genitals handled in such a rough manner, but even when Ramsay thought the pain would make him deflate he soon learned that Robb’s grip was tight enough to keep the blood pooled in his groin. It was a sensation Ramsay wasn’t accustomed to and despite how much he despised Robb, his body couldn’t deny the pleasure he reaped from it. His hips hitched into the contact and he whined pathetically as he pleasured Robb with his mouth.

Whatever composure Ramsay had left was gone in the blink of an eye when Robb’s other hand came down to stroke his cock. He squirmed against the bed and gasped when Robb fisted just the head of his cock with a tight grasp. The sounds he made were mere rumblings against the spit slick pucker of Robb’s ass, coaxing Robb to keep up the ministrations for the time being.

“See? I can be a merciful King,” Robb panted, riding Ramsay’s mouth.

The hand cupping Ramsay’s cock and balls left him and Ramsay was able to pant in relief. Robb instead wrapped it around his own arousal and began jerking it fast as opposed to the calculated and precise movements of the hand he had around Ramsay. The body beneath Robb was restless and twitching, trying to concentrate on three things all at once. Mouthing at Robb’s hole, thrusting into the merciful hand, and, least of all, _breathing_. Ramsay found it difficult to maintain his attention on all of those things, but proved that it wasn’t impossible.

Ramsay loathed feeling this powerless and at the mercy of someone he once deemed to be beneath him, especially a _Stark_ , but he could see the silver lining in all of this. One day Robb might get lazy and he could exploit Robb’s generosity to get the upper hand and the little _prick_ of Winterfell could be at _his_ mercy. All he had to do was play by the rules. Bide his time and suffer more humiliation.

His train of thought was interrupted when the hand about his cock left him high and dry and he was permitted to breath again properly. Robb swung his legs around so that he was now facing Ramsay with his big, proud cock resting at the bastard swollen, wet lips. Robb gazed down upon Ramsay, satisfied to see that he was nearly blue in the face with tears in his eyes from how deprived of oxygen he had been through the whole ordeal. Ramsay flashed a disgusted scowl when he looked down to see Robb stroking his flushed cock fervently.

“Open your mouth,” Robb ordered, chest undulating shallowly as he panted himself to the brink. “Do as you’re told and I _might_ let you come.”

Despite Ramsay’s need to remain defiant and proud he obeyed his King’s demand and parted his lips ever so slightly. Robb was unimpressed and grabbed ahold of Ramsay’s face like he had earlier, forcing his mouth open as wide as it could go. With a few more strokes Robb was gasping and spurting his release all over Ramsay’s debauched face, coating the bridge of his nose, his lips, and his tongue in long, thick stripes.

Ramsay scowled at the bitter taste the hot liquid let in his mouth and felt dirty as it clung to his face. He also tried to ignore the fact that it made his sore cock throb with interest. As if the look of smugness on Robb’s face didn’t sting enough, the auburn haired man proceeded to collect the remains of his come on his fingers and commanded Ramsay to suck on them. And Ramsay obeyed, of course, if only for the promise of release. He even swallowed it when Robb told him to.

“I do believe you proved yourself worthy,” Robb praised, coming down from his orgasm. “How many Kings can say their throne _pleasures_ them whilst they sit upon it?”

The twisted, pinched expression came back to Ramsay’s face as Robb smirked down at him and slid off of his body. Ramsay was at a loss when he noticed Robb putting his clothes back on, shifting his gaze from Robb down to his neglected cock that was still hard and aching from arousal and abuse. Robb turned back to Ramsay to see the bastard’s cold, skeptical gaze motioning to his predicament. Robb let out a soft chuckle and regarded his _throne_ with an air of smugness.

“What?” Robb asked.

“Please, your Grace,” Ramsay begged, on the verge of sobbing he was so hard. His body writhed against the furs on the bed, circulation draining from his limbs. “You promised me! I did as you commanded, my King. Please let me come.”

“Aye, I _did_ promise,” Robb concurred, straightening himself out nonchalantly. “But I didn’t say _when_.”

And just like that, the anger flared up again and Ramsay’s frigid gaze turned into one of brimstone and hellfire. He struggled against the ropes keeping him pinned to the bed, making Robb smirk before he turned his back on the bastard and left him to wallow in shameful arousal.

“Don’t turn your back on me!” Ramsay bellowed, letting venom sink into the implied threat.

When Robb started to walk towards the door, Ramsay realized that probably wasn’t the best course of action, he back peddled slightly. He started to plead again, saying anything Robb wanted to hear just so long as Robb fulfilled his promise and permitted Ramsay to come. Robb paused and he thought for a moment the King in the North would turn around and at least hear him out.

But Ramsay’s pitiful sniveling fell on deaf ears.


End file.
